The women's minister will announce policies that affect women, but so will
many colleagues, both male and female

"So have women been beefed up or beefed down?” one of my lobby colleagues asked No 10 aides on Wednesday, after the mini-reshuffle that saw Sajid Javid take responsibility for equalities, among other things, and Nicky Morgan become minister for women. There are now four ministers who will answer Commons questions on women – Helen Grant and Jenny Willott are the others – but the chaotic briefing from No 10 suggested that the women’s minister was now subordinate to a man.

Then the PM’s aides announced that Mrs Morgan would report directly to David Cameron. Women had a Grand Old Duke of York day: up the government hill, down again, then back up. No 10 insists that women are higher up the hill at the end of this week. This is not just because Mrs Morgan will sit in Cabinet, but because as Financial Secretary to the Treasury, she is responsible for more decisions affecting women than those within the previous, narrow remit of equal pay and women on boards.

Arguably, having a “women’s minister” is patronising. It was introduced by Tony Blair as a symbol of Labour’s commitment to female rights. The first women’s ministers were Harriet Harman and Dame Joan Ruddock. The Tories have little choice but to continue this symbolic appointment, even though the decisions that affect women are taken across government. Scrapping the job would cause a hoo-ha so loud it would drown out any genuine advancement of women’s rights, so, failing that, the Government has decided to absorb the role into another department.

But the question still remains: what does the women’s minister do? It is said that Ms Morgan will be expected to be a “strong voice for women” at the Cabinet table. She may well announce policies that affect women, but then so will many other colleagues, both male and female. And while we’re mulling policies that “affect women”, let’s be honest here: by and large we mean policies that affect mothers. Girls now outperform boys at school. Then they outnumber them at university. And recently, women in their twenties started to earn more than men. That all stops when a woman has children.

The women’s minister makes few decisions that affect those, like me, who don’t have children. A minister for mothers would be a more honest title, if quaint. But we already have a mothers’ minister, in effect. That’s Tory Liz Truss, the early years minister, who is trying, in spite of the best efforts of the Lib Dems, to bring child-care costs down. And Esther McVey, the employment minister, can boast about a record number of women in work.

Another accusation levelled at No 10 was that as Nicky Morgan opposed gay marriage, there was no one who would stand up for lesbians. But the two people who have done the most for lesbians are two straight blokes: David Cameron and Nick Clegg, who introduced same-sex marriage. It is a nonsense that you can only champion the needs of a disadvantaged group if you hail from it, as some have tried to suggest now that a man has taken the overall equalities brief. Why can’t Sajid Javid be a strong voice for all disadvantaged groups, be they mothers, ethnic minorities, disabled people or, indeed, white working-class boys?

Perhaps moving the women’s minister to the Treasury shows the role is slowly being absorbed back into government as a whole, rather than being squirrelled away. With any luck, this will continue, so it is clear all ministers should help all disadvantaged groups, rather than those lucky enough to have their own dedicated minister.